


a perfectly normal reaction

by cracktheglasses (cormallen)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Armitage Hux, Alpha!Doctor/Omega!Patient, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics Roleplay, Anal Fingering, Butt Plugs, Doctor/Patient, M/M, Medical Device, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Omega Kylo Ren, Oral Sex, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Trans Armitage Hux, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-01 16:43:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16768969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cormallen/pseuds/cracktheglasses
Summary: “I need to take a closer look inside you,” Hux says, voice gone a bit breathless. “I’ll be using a speculum to do so. Is that all right?”





	a perfectly normal reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Hux and Kylo play doctor. Alpha doctor and omega patient, to be precise. That's it, that's the fic. 
> 
> Thanks for audiencing it, [@gentleman-caller](http://gentleman-caller.tumblr.com/)!

He's wet.

A trickle of lube slimes, sticky, down the back of his thigh; Kylo fidgets in the hard, plastisteel medbay chair and uncrosses his legs. The movement jostles the thick plug pushed up inside him, sends it nudging into his inner walls, heavy and wide, and Kylo gasps, breathes in sharply through his teeth. 

It’s his favorite one, stretching him just right. His cock twitches inside his pants, half-hard already, undeterred by the exam room’s sterile white walls and the habitual anxiety pricking at his senses.

He's always hated visits to medical, the salty, chemical scent of bacta and disinfectant, the prodding, deeply cold touch of a droid's tools, or worse, the reluctant, shaky hands of a medtech. Even through the layers of latex and microsensory mesh, he could always feel it, their thoughts pulled to the surface by the close contact; a trepidatious mixture of duty, pride, and fear at having to work on him.

At having to touch Kylo Ren.

Today's _doctor_ , however, should have no such compunction. This doctor wants him; wants to look at him, head to toe, touch him everywhere, has asked him for it specially.

Kylo crosses his legs again, carefully this time, pressing his thighs tightly together, and tries to avoid looking at the table in the center of the exam room, the raised one covered with a flexpoly sheet, with the stirrups attached to the end. In just a few more minutes, he'll be spread up on it, bared to the doctor’s view, legs forced shamelessly open.

_An omega check-up_ , Hux had explained, voice deceptively toneless, though Kylo could feel how nervous he was inside, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from looking away. 

Kylo looks at the table again, and tries to imagine himself an inexperienced omega waiting for his appointment, eyes flitting anxiously between the the inactive surgical droid in the corner, the metal sink on the opposite wall, with its containers of soap and wipes, and a dispenser of gloves. 

He’s grown to enjoy Hux’s gloved hands on him, the touch of cool regulation leather on bare skin simply another sensory experience rather than another barrier, but he isn’t sure if the latex will suddenly feel good when donned by Hux instead of someone just doing their job. He resists the thought to reach for the package, and sighs. Despite the thrum of arousal still running through him, he isn’t sure he should have agreed to this, isn’t sure Hux won’t regret asking him. 

Hux had provided several articles, stories, and holos, leaving Kylo to peruse the lot before making his decision, but none of them made it clear why Hux, of all people, would enjoy the experience. 

There are no sentient species with a secondary gender in the known galaxy; as far as Kylo can tell, these designations, these roles — alpha, beta, omega — are relegated strictly to the pornographic, to the vids and stories, and the holonet message boards for their exchange. The roles are beyond old-fashioned, even for some jerkwater world in the Outer Rim: archaic, painfully parochial. There are tall, muscled alphas, demanding and brash. There are slender little omegas, whimpering needily before being dragged off to be mounted. There’s talk of heats, of suppressants. Of presenting, claiming, _breeding_ , nothing he could picture Hux submitting to.

“That’s what you want? To be my — my omega?” Kylo had asked, stumbling over the word, relieved when Hux shook his head.

“No. That’s not what I want,” he’d said, furiously biting at his lip, and Kylo didn’t need the Force to see the tremor in his hands, the little vein popping in his temple the way it always did when Hux was scared, or angry, or excited.

The wall clock rolls over another minute; Kylo hasn’t been waiting long, but he is surprisingly relieved when he hears the sound of heels clicking through the hallway outside. He lifts his head as the door slides open, and Hux — no, the doctor, _his_ doctor — enters the room, his crisp white coat buttoned over a black medical officer’s suit. His bright red hair is brushed back; it looks soft without its usual gel, one of Kylo’s answering requests. He loves Hux’s hair, though he doesn’t get to see it like this often enough. A fluffy curl slips down, and Kylo feels an overwhelming urge to tuck it behind Hux’s ear, then run his hands through the rest of it, messing it back up. To experience the silky weight of it between his fingers, to inhale the scent of it, warm and spiced with Hux’s shampoo. 

Scenting is how it began in most of the stories Hux had given him, an alpha going about his usual business before picking up the inviting, irresistible smell of an omega nearby, and following it to its tantalizing source. The omega inexorably drawn to the alpha’s own scent, sharp and overpowering; one of the stories described it alternately as hot and peppery, then honeyed and sweet. Kylo couldn’t quite process it as he read, but he can imagine it now as he stares up at the lapels of Hux’s starched coat, at his pale, narrow hands, clasped together in front — inhaling and feeling it thump something deep in him, something primal and instinctual, every breath pronouncing that this doctor, this thin, elegant, lovely man is something even more than all that.

That he’s an alpha. That he’s about to touch Kylo in ways nobody else has.

He realizes he’s staring when Hux lets out an expectant _ahem_ , and calls his name — again, it sounds like. 

“Dr. Hux?” he says, rushing to stand. He hadn’t asked if Hux has done this before now, has had someone act out his desires. Kylo has not, but he’d known right away he wasn’t going to call Hux anything other than his name. Didn’t want him to be anyone else, even in the fantasy scenario, didn’t want Hux to call him by any other name in return.

He must look awkward, reluctant, because Hux gives him a quick reassuring smile and picks up a holopad from the desk, flipping through a few screens. 

“Let’s get the basics out of the way, shall we, Kylo?” he says, as Kylo gingerly sits back down, careful not to disturb the plug. His briefs feel a mess, soaked through with lube and precome, and he wonders if Hux can see the outline of his cock through his training pants, if under his own coat and uniform, he’s similarly aroused. If he’s been running through this scene over and over in his head, if he’s touched himself, too, tense with anticipation as he thought of it playing out.

“You’re here for your omega check-up,” Hux continues, checking the datapad. “Looks like you haven’t had one yet this year, but don’t have any specific questions or concerns, is that right?”

“Right,” Kylo replies, and Hux runs through a few more generic lines about his medical history before fixing Kylo with a concerned look. 

“Now, before we have you change, I’m going to need you to tell me a little about your sexual history. I can tell you’re not on suppressants. Any reason for that?”

Kylo usually hates how easily he blushes; he can feel himself going bright red, even though it’s just Hux, but he thinks it’s perfectly suitable for right now, for the shy omega he is meant to be. For realizing the doctor has smelled him out, can tell from just a few minutes with him that he’s leaking lube — _slick_ — that he’s ready, _ripe_. 

“If you’re unsure about the suppressants currently on the market, I can talk you through the options, help you decide which ones are right for you. There are some concerns about the long-term effects of not experiencing any heats, but there are suppressants designed to let you go through a few a year, controlled, at a time convenient for you — “

“I, uh, haven’t,” Kylo interrupts faintly, and then a little louder. “I haven’t ever had a heat, yet.” 

“Oh. Hm, you’re certainly old enough,” Hux says. “That is unusual. You’re not sexually active, then?”

Here, Kylo thinks his face might in fact, burst into flame, because the answer he is meant to give is uncomfortably close to the truth. 

“I’m not. I haven’t. I’ve never.”

He hadn’t; not before Hux. He’d been intimately familiar with his hands, with a few toys he’d gotten here and there, but Hux had been the first flesh and blood person he’d exchanged more than a few awkward kisses with. He knows it’s not the same for Hux, though he doesn’t like talking about it, so Kylo hasn’t pushed. Maybe Hux will tell him, if he ever wants to, but it doesn’t matter either way.

“Hmm,” Hux says, looking him over again, no longer concerned, but appraising. Interested. “No experience. No heats. Very unusual. We’ll have to do a thorough exam. Ensure everything is in proper working order. Why don’t you go ahead and put on the gown — ties in the front, please. I’ll step outside. Please knock on the door when you’re ready.”

It’s a relief to finally get out of his uncomfortable things; Kylo debates momentarily whether Hux might like to remove his underwear himself, but ends up peeling them down his thighs. He feels for the base of the plug between his cheeks, slippery and warm from his body, and rocks it a little, thinking of Hux, right on the other side of the door. Would the doctor, the _alpha_ , still be able to scent him through the plasteel separating them? His scent would be stronger now that he’s standing there, naked, the pressure of the plug intensifying as he squeezes down on it.

The gown Hux has left for him is a shade too small. Kylo is able to wedge his arms through the sleeves, but the sides don’t close over his chest, not even when he pulls the ties as much as they’ll allow. He is just barely able to get them tied, but there’s nothing to be done for the gap the gown leaves down his front, a wide strip of chest and belly exposed, his cock embarrassingly on display. It almost certainly deliberate; Hux ought to know his size, and procuring a properly fitting gown would have been nothing compared to having reserved the use of a medical exam room for his own enjoyment. No, Hux wants him like this, immediately on view, and Kylo’s uncovered skin tingles with anticipation, as welcome as it is shameful. The edges of the gown brush over his dick as he moves, and he cups a hand over his crotch, futilely trying to cover himself as he knocks on the door.

“There you are,” Dr. Hux says, coming back into the room; his eyes sweep over Kylo’s bare skin, hungry, the pupils dilating. “Oh, dear, I am sorry about the fit. I suppose it’ll have to do for now, but I’ll make a note here that you need a larger size, for next time. Now, if you would please hop up on the table, and we’ll start the breast exam.”

Hux’s voice wobbles a bit as he says it. Kylo can sympathize, a vague disquietude rising in him at the implication of having — _tits_ , Hux has already called them in bed before, resting his head on Kylo’s ribcage. It had been a sort of compliment then, he supposes, Hux rubbing his cheek into his chest line before settling, like a picky felinx. Even so, Kylo wants to reach out with the Force, delve — not far, just into the surface of Hux’s emotions, to make sure everything is still going exactly how he wants it. Hux would hate that, so he moves to the side of the table as directed, instead, the tissue paper crinkling as he sits down. 

Hux grabs a pair of gloves from the dispenser, and pulls up a rolling stool, positioning himself close in front, between Kylo’s spread thighs. 

“I’m going to undo these two ties, Kylo,” he announces, reaching for the closures of the gown, and Kylo nods, pushes his chest out to give Hux better access.

Hux hesitates a moment before touching his chest, but when he finally does so, it’s with practiced familiarity. His cool fingers cup underneath Kylo’s pec, squeezing lightly, then travel up, the smooth latex dragging over sensitive skin as Hux palpates the muscle. The palm of his hand rubs over Kylo’s nipple, already pebble-hard after being exposed to the air. 

It feels good. Hux presses the heel of his hand harder in and makes a deliberate little circle, and Kylo’s entire body starts, the echo of the touch shuddering through him. 

He’s never reacted to a doctor’s hands like this, the pulse thudding in his ears in arousal rather than impatience. Kylo bites down a gasp, does his best not to arch his back, not to drive his sensitized nipple right into Hux’s palms. 

Hux takes his hand away in concern, the other still pressed gently to Kylo’s sternum, fingertips rubbing a bit over a small scar there. 

“Everything all right, Kylo?”

It takes everything he has to stammer out “Yes, doctor, fine,” instead of _please don’t stop_ , just the reaction Hux must want, because he moves to Kylo’s other nipple and pinches it softly, rolls it between index finger and thumb. The cuff of his coat has rolled down, baring a sliver of wrist, and Kylo can feel all the sensations at once: the frictionless, sterile latex of Hux’s glove, the rough cloth of his sleeve, and the warm slide of skin on skin as Hux keeps toying with his nipple.

Hux squeezes harder, tugs on the responsive, tender nub, and Kylo can’t help letting out a choked little noise. His cock is fully hard now, precome smearing over the tip; there is no covering that, not even if his gown could close all the way. Hux knows it, of course, knows it’s exactly what his touch, deliberate and calculated, was meant to do. 

Kylo looks straight in front of himself, at the sharp line of Hux’s collar, and takes a deep breath, and then another, slow, and steady, trying to focus. It wouldn’t help an omega; the exposure, the feeling of Hux’s hands, the pressure from the plug, all build together. He would be dripping, soaking through the back of his gown, a wet patch spreading on the thin layer of protective paper all the way down to the plastic underneath. There’d be no hiding it. Even if the doctor couldn't smell him, couldn’t sense the inviting cloud of want rising off him, he’d know in just a few short minutes, when Kylo’s in the stirrups.

“Are you certain you’re doing okay?” Dr. Hux asks. He’s stopped moving, but his hands still rest over Kylo’s pectoralis. The latex of his gloves has warmed up from the contact, and Kylo feels the loss acutely when he finally lets go and sits back. 

“I think so,” Kylo says, heart thudding. “Yes. I am. I’m sorry, I just always get — nervous, during these.”

“That’s quite understandable,” the doctor says, giving a small nod. “Everything up here looks good, so let’s see what we can do to make you more comfortable. You can go ahead and do the ties back up. Can you do that for me?”

Kylo nods, and pulls the ties together with shaky fingers, shivering at the feel of the undersized, too taut gown tightening over his reddened, swollen nipples. They press through the gown, outlined clearly under the thin cloth. 

Hux watches him attentively the entire time, instead of turning away, then pats the table, the edge of his hand brushing up against Kylo’s bare thigh. 

“Come on over to the other end of the table, Kylo.”

The stirrups, then. Kylo’s ass clenches involuntarily, driving the blunt head of the plug deeper in, and he groans, toes curling into the floor tiles. His thighs tremble as he stands, his hard cock spreading the sides of the gown apart. 

He stares helplessly for a moment, caught between an attempt to cover himself up with his hands and climbing back up onto the table. 

“Don’t worry. It’s a perfectly normal reaction,” Dr. Hux says with a knowing smile, not reassuring in the least. “Don’t bother adjusting the gown; I’ll just be lifting it back up in a moment.”

“I’m sorry,” Kylo says, unsure exactly what he’s apologizing for, but feeling like he should. The omega would want to be good, to please Dr. Hux. To do what he’s told. Kylo wants Hux’s hands back on him; he lets go of the gown and climbs up onto the end of the table, then looks up at the doctor, awaiting further instruction.

Dr. Hux’s mouth looks dark pink, glossy, like he’s been licking it. Under the white coat, the collar of his top has come open, revealing the soft, pale dip of his jugular notch, a little spray of freckles leading down underneath. Kylo’s almost painfully hard dick quivers and drools a sticky bubble of precome. It hangs from his slit, glistening in the bright lights, and Kylo bites the inside of his cheek, hard, tries to hold himself stock-still even as he aches with want, just looking at Hux’s neck getting him so shamefully needy.

Dr. Hux smiles again.

“Legs in the stirrups, please,” he says, reaching out a hand; Kylo expects a tap on his thigh, but Hux’s latex-covered palm hovers in the air without touching skin, then abruptly changes direction. Kylo can’t control himself; he moans, loud, desperate, as Hux slowly drags a fingertip over his cockhead, smearing the wetness around. 

“I’m going to elevate this end of the table a bit once you’re settled,” Hux says softly. “So there’s enough room to see everything properly.” He keeps rubbing his thumb over Kylo’s cock all the while, the glove-blunted nail pressing into his slit. “How does that sound?”

It takes Kylo a moment to understand the doctor is expecting an answer. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the smooth, teasing pressure of Hux’s hand on his dick.

“OK. It’s — oh! Good. It’s good,” he manages, and regrets it immediately as the hand withdraws. 

“Good,” Dr. Hux says. “Are you ready?”

Kylo does his best to ignore his straining, reddened cock, and hefts his legs awkwardly into position. The gown slides back almost to his waist as Hux manipulates the table, leaving him completely open.

“Relax, Kylo,” Dr. Hux says, and cups his balls, gently hefting them in his hands as if testing their weight. It feels good, but not enough; Hux rolls them delicately, tracing down the seam to Kylo’s perineum, to the base of the plug. 

“Take a deep breath.”

Kylo inhales obediently. His asshole contracts around the plug as Hux presses two fingers to his rim and rubs. His gloves make a sticky, sucking sound against Kylo’s skin, where the slippery, lubed up silicone spreads his hole. 

“Relax and bear down for me. Just like that,” the doctor tells him, and then the plug is slid out of him, leaving his asshole open and empty. A warm glob of lube drips onto the paper underneath him, and more dribbles embarrassingly down his crack and into the hem of his gown.

“Hmm. On visual examination, you look quite opened up, and very slick,” says Dr. Hux, and Kylo flushes again, has to turn his face to the side so he isn’t looking right at the doctor’s too-pink, pursed mouth.

“Is that.. normal?” he asks hesitantly, and guesses, more than sees, Dr. Hux moving closer in, leaning down between Kylo’s legs until he can feel warm breath against the crease of his thigh.

“Tell me if there is any discomfort,” says Hux, and the next instant, two fingers push deeply into him, the movement smoothed by lube and latex. Kylo presses his hot cheek into the table, hair prickling against the paper, squeezes his eyes closed as Hux pulls his hand back then slides in deep again, scissoring his fingers slightly.

The lube — _his slick_ — squelches dreadfully as Hux fingers his hole; it must be difficult, so difficult for the doctor, the alpha, to keep himself restrained as Kylo whimpers, his hips beginning to grind minutely into the table.

“I feel really hot,” he gasps, keeping his eyes tightly shut. “So hot, all over.” He flexes his thighs, twists, pushes his readied ass onto Hux’s hand. 

He should be mortified, should be burning up in shame, a pathetic little omega, falling apart at a doctor’s ministrations. Unable to think beyond the greedy pounding of his pulse in his cock, his body buzzing with heat, with the inescapable, desperate need to get fucked. He thinks he might cry when the doctor suddenly removes his fingers. He tries to take the full, deep breaths the doctor had asked for, does his best to stop his hips from grinding into the soaked table.

The doctor rattles something in his metal tray. 

“I need to take a closer look inside you,” he says, his own voice gone a bit breathless. “I’ll be using a speculum to do so. Is that all right?”

This had been one of the parts Kylo had been most nervous about, when Hux brought it up. Just the word had made him twinge, picturing it, cold and hard, its metal halves stretching him to the limit. Now, though, bereft of the plug, of Hux’s hand, he wants only to be filled up again, his hole clenching on nothing. His cock bobs up, almost brushing his belly, smearing more slick into the already soaked gown. 

“Yes,” he croaks, opening his eyes just in time to see Dr. Hux considering the tube of lubricant on the tray.

“You’re wet enough, I believe, but I’d better use just a little more,” he says, still choked up; a thin sheen of sweat beads over his forehead and darkens the hair at his temples. He leans in again, his full mouth some centimeters away from Kylo’s dick, the tip of his tongue caught between his lips as he spreads lube over the curved edges of the speculum, taking care to get it thoroughly covered.

“It'll be a little cold,” the doctor explains, wiping excess lube off his gloves. “Nice deep breath in and out for me.”

Kylo trembles as the speculum nudges into his opening. The doctor slides it into place in one smooth, steady movement, and it feels good, surprisingly so; much better than he’d expected. The metal doesn’t give, not like a cock, or one of his flexplast toys, but it reaches deep, the curved edges of it pressing into his sensitive, tender hole, just where he craves it. Dr. Hux taps it slightly, adjusting position before he begins, and Kylo cries out, a hot pulse radiating through him. 

“Shh, shh, there you are,” he hears as the doctor begins clicking the device open. The hot, heavy pressure in his ass intensifies, his body adjusting, giving way before being stretched even more. 

He bites at his lip and grips the edges of the table, white-knuckled, unable to contain a high, loud whine. Dr. Hux is right there, looking at his ass as it’s stretched, looking inside, between the wedges of the speculum, where he’s slick and getting slicker with pleasure: an omega going into his first heat.

He had thought it might feel awkward — ridiculous — foolish — to act it out, but all he can think now is how incredibly turned on he is, how badly he wants more.

“Dr. Hux, alpha, I can’t, I’m sorry,” he gasps, arching off the table, “please, is it supposed to feel like this?”

The doctor presses roughly onto his belly and hips, anchoring him back down, but doing nothing to stop the electric coil tightening through his spine, tingles radiating from where Hux’s gloved hands connect with his skin.

“I can’t, I can’t. Need it, doctor Hux, alpha, please!” Kylo cries, pushing his hips up again, his untouched, leaking cock almost brushing the doctor’s jaw. 

Dr. Hux hesitates. He is affected, flushed all along his cheeks, his throat, down to where the buttoned uniform hides his freckled chest from view. His breathing is shallow, like he is trying not to breathe in too much of Kylo’s scent, the smell of his skin, his sweat, thick with how much Kylo wants him. 

“You’re in heat. I can smell you,” the doctor says finally, slowly, gritting his teeth as if it hurts him to get the words out. “We will have to stop the exam. Here, just try your best to keep calm, so I can remove the speculum.”

“Please,” Kylo begs, hips working, hands scrabbling at the tissue paper. 

Maybe the doctor is trying to move, or maybe he can’t control himself either, not anymore, not with a face full of needy, ready omega, but his lips are _just there_ , Kylo’s dick suddenly pushing up into a plush, soft mouth. 

“Hux, _Hux_ ,” he moans as Hux’s mouth wraps around his cock, a wet, tight ring, Hux’s deft, slippery tongue lapping at the tip. Latex-covered fingers stroke his base, and Kylo knows with a white-hot certainty that if Hux doesn’t stop, he’s going to come. Here, on the exam table, spread in the stirrups, speculum stretching his ass open, he’s going to come into Hux’s talented, wonderful mouth.

Hux curls his fingers tightly, lips sliding messily up and down; saliva drips down Kylo’s length, mixing with the mess of precome and lube. Hux swirls his tongue again, then sucks firmly, and that’s it, that’s all it takes, finally, Kylo’s body jolting into orgasm. His back arches on the table, ass spasming around the speculum, spurt after spurt of come pumping from his slit. He can’t suppress the noises he makes, helpless animal sounds, raw and high in his throat. Flashes of bright light burst on the inside of his eyelids; he doesn’t know when he closed his eyes, but it feels impossible to open them now, not when he is shaking, tensing, fingers fisting and tearing the table’s paper lining. 

Even after the gut-wrenching, intense wave is through, he still trembles; Hux licks gently around the crown of his dick, then lets him slide out of his mouth. 

Dimly, Kylo hears the wet snap of latex, guessing that Hux has taken off the gloves, and opens his eyes. He feels light-headed, utterly spent, legs still hefted awkwardly in the stirrups. Hux is still sitting between Kylo’s spread thighs. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, then leans back in. Kylo groans at the slow, sucking feel of the speculum being carefully pulled out of him, and reaches down to feel at his asshole as Hux turns to put the instrument into the sink.

His ass still gapes a little under his fingers, loose and used, and slightly sore. Hux glances over at him apprehensively. 

“How are you feeling? Was that too much?” he asks, his tone no longer the measured, softly commanding voice of the doctor. He sounds like Hux, stiff, serious, and a little harried, and Kylo shakes his head. 

“No, I feel good.”

He sits up and stretches, back and shoulders stiff from the exam table.

“It was intense. But good. For me. Did you — did you like it? Did I do it like you wanted?” 

“Yes,” Hux says without pause. “Thank you. Here, let me help you clean up. Do you want some water? Or an energy drink? I brought a protein formula as well, and some glucose tabs.”

“Energy drink,” Kylo decides, opting not to comment on just how much Hux has prepared, and how much he probably didn’t have to, considering that they’re currently on a Star Destroyer — for all purposes, a small floating city — scant meters away from any supplies they could possibly wish to requisition. 

He sips at the energy drink, leaning back and spreading again, so Hux can wipe him down with a prepackaged sterile wipe. Hux is efficient, but gentle as he cleans up the leftover lube and fluids from the inside of his thighs, delicately handling his balls and softened cock. After taking care of Kylo, Hux busies himself with picking up the tray of instruments, the encounter seeming effectively over, and Kylo sighs, trying not to think of how easy it would be to stretch out a hand and _reach_ , skimming through Hux’s mind for the most pronounced, clear emotions.

Instead, he wrenches his arms out of the flimsy gown, and stands, naked, in front of Hux’s chair. 

“Will you let me get you off? I want to,” he says, heading off any protest Hux may wage. “Hux. I want to lick you open.” 

He hadn’t said anything like that to anyone before Hux, and he loves saying it to him, loves the way Hux’s eyes widen and his lashes flutter.

“Want to suck your cock. Let me do that for you, let me suck your cock, please,” Kylo says, pauses, and adds, “alpha.”

“Kriff, Ren. You don’t have to say that now.” 

“I want to.” _I liked it. It suits you_ , Kylo doesn’t say, _even when you can’t make yourself tell me what you want_.

“Here, I’ll kneel down, you sit up on the edge of the table,” he offers, already working on the fasten of Hux’s medtech trousers. “Not the coat. Keep that on.”

“Liked it that much, did you,” Hux says waspishly, but the corners of his mouth are upturned, and he helps Kylo pull his pants off. He isn’t wearing any underwear. Downy red-gold hair dusts his thighs and the soft pooch of his lower belly, but his mound is shaved bare, his swollen cock emerging, dark red and glistening, between the folds of his cunt. 

Kylo can see how wet he is when he gets in close. He spreads Hux’s lips with his thumb, drawing it all the way down and then back, from Hux’s hole to his cock. He loves feeling just around the slippery give of Hux’s opening, tracing him lightly with fingers and tongue until his thighs tense, until he begins to fidget and rock up into Kylo’s mouth with impatient little _oh_ s. He doesn’t usually make much noise other than this, though he isn’t shy about giving direction, or grabbing Kylo’s hair and pulling when Kylo does something he likes very much. 

Kylo noses at his dick a little, then holds him open with both hands and licks around the hood, down to the base of the shaft, and the silky, sensitive underside. Hux doesn’t like a lot direct touch to the tip of his cock, not until he is near to coming, but Kylo pulls him into his mouth, tightens his lips and sucks, rolling the entire length back and forth on his tongue.

Hux shivers. He reaches out and fists his hands in Kylo’s hair, and holds him tightly against his cunt, grinds his pelvis into Kylo’s face, fucking his mouth. It hurts in a dozen little ways; the press of Hux’s bony hips, Hux’s thighs clenching around his neck and ears, catching and pulling his hair. He does his best to cover his teeth with his lips, and that hurts, too, and Hux’s hands tugging at his scalp. 

Kylo loves it.

“You taste so good,” he rasps, catching his breath when Hux finally lets him up. His mouth is wet, slick coating his chin, running down his jaw as he looks up at Hux’s face.

Hux is dark pink, his face sweaty, his freckles barely visible through the ragged flush. His eyes are half-closed, the tip of his tongue hitched between his lips. 

Kylo wants so much to make him feel good.

“Can I finger you?”

“Mmhmm,” Hux nods, lifting his hips up. Kylo shifts forward on his knees, adjusts his grip to keep holding on to Hux with his left hand as he slides a finger in.

Hux is incredibly hot inside, his cunt tight and so, so wet. Kylo presses his fingers together and pumps them in and out a few times, slowly, watching Hux’s face for more.

Hux opens his mouth soundlessly, closes it again, teeth clamping down onto his lower lip; Kylo presses in a third finger and thrusts faster, uses the heel of his hand to rub over Hux’s cock. 

“You always feel so good around my fingers,” he says. “Want it to be so good for you. Want to _be_ good for you.”

“Yes,” Hux agrees. He grips onto Kylo’s hair and pulls, hard. Kylo moans and retaliates by curling his fingers, his hand making a sloppy, squelching sound inside Hux, sending a gush of wet sliding down his wrist. He keeps thrusting, pushing, spreading his fingers and rubbing into the soaking, pliable heat of Hux’s cunt until it clutches down on him, like it’s trying to suck him further in. 

He rotates his hand, angles his fingers to fuck Hux hard and fast, then bends down, gives Hux’s cock a few licks with the flat of his tongue. 

Hux trembles all over. He clasps his hands together at the back of Kylo’s head, as if unable to decide whether to pull him closer or push him away. Kylo doesn’t let up, keeps his tongue and lips working over Hux’s cock, swiping hard over his sensitive tip over and over.

“Kylo, oh,” Hux moans, his thighs spasming, fingernails digging sharply into Kylo’s skin. His cunt pulses around Kylo’s fingers, contracts in a rolling wave, then goes vise-tight. Hux breathes loudly in and out, almost panting, then lets go of Kylo’s hair and forces a hand in between Kylo’s face and his dick, pushing his mouth away.

“Enough, enough,” he gasps. Kylo obeys, sitting back on his haunches, and watches the last few flutters of Hux’s cunt between his pale fingers.

“Don’t just sit there,” Hux grouses after a few moments. “Get me a towel, and hand that drink over, would you?”

“Yes, alpha,” Kylo says, and Hux kicks him in the shoulder, not hard, just enough for him to feel it. 

He puts his clothes back on, and helps Hux with his, and looks around, picking up the rest of their things. The room is thick with the smell of them: of sweat, and sex, and come, but the air scrubbers should take care of that shortly.

Hux is looking at him, his expression unreadable, and Kylo hesitates for a moment before deciding if he wants to say what he’s about to say. 

“We should try — you could knot me, next time,” he says, looking down onto the doctor’s coat he’s folding. “You could use your fist, or, I saw in one of the articles you sent, they have toys designed for it. Inflatable, or with a wider middle. I could get one ordered when I’m on planet. Maybe have something made.”

He trails off, not looking at Hux until suddenly there are two fingers at his jaw, pushing his chin up. Hux looks down at him, disheveled, yet imperious, still cradling Kylo’s face. 

“Is that what you want? You need my knot, omega?”

A rush of want uncoils in the pit of his stomach. Kylo nods, turning his cheek, and presses his mouth to the palm of Hux’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be shamed [at my tumblr](http://cracktheglasses.tumblr.com/), as per usual.


End file.
